


monopoly

by agenttitties



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: M/M, shotgunningg, weed man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:26:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agenttitties/pseuds/agenttitties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>stiles doing the weed cause theres not enough weed fics in this fuckign world and im hella high</p>
            </blockquote>





	monopoly

**Author's Note:**

> mmmmmmmmmmm this is fromm personal experience and bounce sheets rly cover up the smells discreetly ok guies  
> i may ormay not be self projecting 
> 
> its short   
> like me  
> im 5" and 15 and i stopped growing a yr ago  
> fun facts

His drive home may have been a bit above the speed limit but hey nothing wrong with wanting to go home. An empty home. Home alone. 

 

Okay maybe he's just antsy and stressed. Scott recently needed help taking down harpies-fucking harpies Jesus christ- and the blood is never coming out of his favourite t-shirt. It's 10 pm on a saturday night, they finished early before expected, his Dad is working the late shift so what the fuck. Smoke some weed. It was a wind down for someone like him, thoughts spinning around in his head like that fucking harpies carcass. Derek can throw very far with his teeth. And hands that are attatched to his jacked arms that are connected to his firm and scultped- Home. Stiles all but gracefully falls out of his car and stumbles to the door lookng for his keys. He steps inside and swivels towards the stairs whilst throwing his bag and droppinghis keys by the entrace table. His dad isn't uptight about Stiles' recreational fun, he just doesn't fond of the smell. So his sesh's happen outside or if he's lazy enough through his window. Stiles' always assumed Scott wouldn't be up to it or even if it's possible to get him high, freaking werewolves. Sometime he blazes with people just widely known stoners of Beacon hills. They were wary of him first but stiles' gained their trust, no  one can say no to his big brown eyes. He's hoping that no werewolves will drop by his window tonight or worse, his dad's co-workers. That was one incident that he's never willing to go through again. Once he's in his room he throws off his soiled shirt to a random corner of his bedroom tugging on a new one.

 

Stiles flops to the ground and reaches under his bed for a box hidden behind old textbooks on 9th grade science. It was an old wooden one his grandmother on his mom's side had made when she was younger. Stiles just referred to it as 'weed box'. He had about 2 grams on him from last time and some pk in his bag that he'd got the other day. Stiles didn't necessarliy have a bong, he knew people who did so tonight he was using his [bubbler](http://www.everyonedoesit.com/online_headshop/molino-glass-bubbler-pipe---double-ducktail.cfm?iProductID=4802) (he named it ducky but no one needs to know that.) He scrambles through his drawers for his lighter. "Yesssssss." He hisses out and grabs his grinder. Stiles mind wanders as hes grinding the weed. It's time to reflect on his time with Derek. Derek who just today ripped a harpies' throat out when it got too close for Stiles' comfort. Good times. He's gotta hand it to the guy though; managing to look that hot while shredding through feathery flesh is quite the talent, he's gonna go far. He snorts as he sets down the grinder and grabs his bubbler to fill it with water. Stiles idly wonders what music to play. He turns on his laptop while he packs a bowl. He searches around on 8Tracks and finds [something decent.](https://8tracks.com/yiff/i-am-jacks-complete-lack-of-surprise) Stiles takes the lighter in hand and leans back in his chair. The first chop is enjoyable but by the 4th or 5th it's a rush. He presses his lips lightly on the mouthpiece and finger on the choke, lights up, inhaling the smoke deeply. He would usually do neat tricks like smoke rings or french inhale (which he almost has the hang of) but tonight is about enjoying the high. He looks leasierly around his room, all the pictures and notes attatched to his wall, smiling at a rare picture of him and Scott when they were young. It was before his mother died and Scott's dad moved out. Stiles doesn't recognise himself in that picture, feeling oddly detattched from himself. He frowns and looks away. The picture of Derek catches his attention. It's the one Erica secretly took and gave to him saying "I took a picture so it'll last longer" with a wink, it's of Derek in his grey wifebeater and butt jeans (Code word for the pair that hugs his ass perfectly) the light hanging above him reflects the sheen of sweat on his skin and hints that there was definately a work out that went on. Stiles bites his lip before taking another hit. He wonders if he can get the grump to loosen up and have a sesh with him. Maybe even smile. 

 

"Yeah, right."

 

Stiles snaps his head up in the direction of the open window. Derek has his head stuck in and resting his forearms on the sill.

 

"Have you come to listen to my magnificent narrative?" He tries to take a bigger toke than before. 

 

"No, actually I came to check up on you considering you almost died today, but you seem fine." He sounds like one of those smug parents who caught their kid like sticking their gum under the table.

 

"Excuse me I did not almost die today, it was you who nearly got savagely beat by a bird-woman hybrid." He takes around the smoke exiting his mouth. "But if it hurts your big man ego I can ass kiss quite well."

 

"That's a lie, you and me both know it." Derek states while climbing in all the way and sitting on his bed.

 

"Yeah yeah, okay I definately know you did not stop by just to small talk, so please if you will." He spins in his chair to face Derek, who's awkwardly sitting on his bed and scrunching up his nose to the smell, how _cute._

_  
_"I didn't know you smoked." He sounds honest to God confused.

 

Stiles roles his eyes and turns back to his laptop and grinder to pack another bowl. "Just like how I didn't know you were a werewolf. Derek now is the time to fess up, what else are you hiding, are you into BDSM? Don't even answer that we all know it, with the leather jacket and all. But that doesn't matter right now because do you wanna chop?" He turns back to Derek who looks startled out of thought.

 

"What?"

 

"Smoke. Get high. Weeeeeeeeeeeed. Can werewolves even get high because I was wondering about that before, if so we need to get the pack high they're not the most relaxed of people. Or were's-" Derek cuts him off by taking the bubbler and reaching for the lighter. Stiles' train of thought stops as he presses his lips to the mouthpiece ( _Stiles'_ mouthpiece!), Derek closes his eyes as he inhales the smoke for what seems forever and holds it a while. The cloud that he lets out mesmerizes Stiles and Derek moving to remove his jacket snaps him out of it.

 

"Nice." He croaks.

 

He gives him a quick lift of the corner of his mouth, more than what he's given in let's say, a month. Stiles resetles himself on his bed and takes another hit and emptying the bowl. Derek leans against his wall and for once in his life Stiles actually doesn't know what to say. He packs the bowl again and offers Derek another hit before he can get an answer he blurts out plainly. "Have you ever shotgunned." He thinks  _oh this is it now, he's finally going to say "Stiles do you even have a filter?"_ , what he doesn't expect is a gruff "No" before he snatches the bubbler. Stiles grin widens. If Derek think this is prying now he doesn't know whats coming. "Oh reeeeeeeally? Never? You seem to know what you're doing, are you telling me you've never had a chance, an offer? Because look at you, you're practically a model. But if you haven't I can teach you, tonight is open house, tell me what you want to know and I won't judge you too badly." Derek blows the smoke out in his face leaving stiles squinting at him with his mouth pressed in a thin line.

 

"Why do you care exactly?" Derek raises a brow and stiles almost snorts.

 

"You haven't shotgunned." Stiles says happily taking the bubbler back to light up again.

 

"Do you want to?" Lord mighty above Stiles has just died.

 

"What?! No I mean why? you don't even like me and you just being in the same room as me for more than 20 seconds not to mention the smoking that is happening here, I'm smoking with a fugitive, a hot fugitive. Come to thinkof it I would very much like to shotgun with you." He inhales faster this time hoping to get so high he doesn't rememmber a thing. Derek, dare he say it, is being... bashful. The pink in his cheeks flush deeper when he nods to Stiles to come closer. He feels buzzed in more than one way as he dips his head which is guided by Dereks hand. Stiles presses his lips to Derek's and exhales into his open mouth that greedily sucks in the cloud. Derek tangles their tongues and tips his head up to exhale. He doesn't let him go far and brings their lips together again in a frenzy. Stiles licks his way into Dereks mouth and savours the small sound he makes when he sucks gently at his tongue. Usually after getting high Stiles' jerks off, he can't help it, he gets horny. Half mast in his jeans Stiles pulls back to look at Derek, his flushed face half lidded eyes and spit slick lips. Derek slides his hands gently across Stiles body and he thinks.

 

Pass go, collect $200.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hoo diss  
> if u happen to like my subtle attempts at projecting onto stiles please feel free to sit there and fuckign smirk ok i get it im weird


End file.
